RF67

Creeping deeper, she began to hear sounds from ahead. Possible combat. She licked her lips and moved a little faster, rounding an upcoming corner and finding a flight of stairs. The noise was from above. She hurried up them and turned another corner, taking a few more stairs up to the next floor before she found him.

Not Tyrian. Torchwick. He was flat on his front.

"Damn it." Summer knelt by the thief and reached a hand to his neck. There was a pulse, albeit a weak one. The blood splatters led to him and a wound cut into his left shoulder. There was also blood matted in his hair, his hat nowhere to be seen. "I'll get you a doctor if I can," she promised, patting his back and standing. "Thanks for trying."

There was no time to help him now. He must have been caught in an ambush by Tyrian – probably suffering in the dark. That, or he'd been forced to intervene for some reason. She hoped it wasn't because of a threat to Emerald's life.

The clash of metal ahead drew her on and Summer left the thief behind, cutting ahead and through a narrow corridor. An open door at the end led out into what appeared to be a large causeway made of metal suspended over a much bigger room below. Broken skylights cast illumination inside that rendered her scroll unnecessary.

There, in the centre of it, two figures were locked in mortal combat.

One was Tyrian; Summer recognised him immediately. The other, she would swear she'd never seen. A girl that looked as old as Yang, yet was moving as fast as Summer could, bending and flipping around Tyrian's weapon and his inky-black tail, wielding a thin rapier with precise strikes. Her multi-coloured hair marked her the ally of Torchwick, if the fact she was fighting Tyrian didn't already.

Sumer looked for Emerald and saw her beyond, slumped on her side and not moving.

The moment that took cost her ally. The girl ducked under the knife, side-stepped the tail but couldn't quite escape the wrist-blades of Tyrian's other hand. She leaned back to try and avoid impalement, bending almost double. They scraped across her breastbone, cutting through cloth and skin. Tyrian planted a foot in her chest and kicked off, flipping in the air with agility that belied his size.

The girl was knocked back. Her knees hit the railing of the causeway and she toppled, rapier scattering down below as she caught herself with one hand on the base. She hung there, legs swaying below her and her other hand desperately trying to find purchase.

"Hee hee!" Tyrian cackled, walking toward her and placing a foot on her hand. "You should watch your step. The fall is a looong one."

No time. The second her foot struck metal, he heard her. He leapt back and her sword cut through air. It drove him away enough for Summer to kneel, eyes fixed on him, and offer a hand down. The girl managed to grab on, and Summer hauled her up. She was light enough for it. No weapon, though. And she looks exhausted.

"Go back and keep an eye on Torchwick. I have reinforcements coming, so point them in the right direction when they arrive."

The girl nodded and limped away, favouring one leg. There was a nasty gash in it and a smell like rotten onions. Summer's attention was drawn to Tyrian's long tail. It didn't look organic at all, more like it was part-Grimm. Had he poisoned the girl? That could be bad. Hopefully, Beacon would have something that could treat her.